The novelty of light evenings hasn't worn off yet, and we excitedly reviewed our Tuesday club night options. The decision was made to do the Doon Hill 10 miler route, but to do it in reverse to shake things up. Karrrazzzzy!
The pace was moderate as we set off from Hallhill, with Stuart, David and I drifting very slightly off the front of the group. David is a recent joiner of the club, on a second claim basis. Still only 21, he is very much on an upwards trajectory, while I am already feeling like I am fighting against an age-related decline. It was therefore a little surprising to hear that he was in a bit of a funk about his performance at the Dunbar 10K - not least because he took 45 seconds off of his PB, and registered a low 37, on a by-no-means flat course. Apparently his coach at his first claim club reckoned this was a disappointing performance, which strikes me as unhelpful, overly negative feedback. My own approach would have been to "bank" a nice progression, early in the season, and use it as a platform to build on for other races on more PB-friendly courses such as Musselburgh. But, hey, maybe that's why I am not and never will be an elite athlete or coach. (As an aside I can tell you that I once had a dream that I was a Manchester United player. Despite having the fantasy world as my oyster, my own sub-conscious couldn't allow for anything greater than being an unused substitute in a European away fixture at Juventus - "let's not get carried away now". Ho hum - I bagged some great imaginary kit, and spent most of the match chatting to John O'Shea, who was pretty good craic and seemed as grateful as me just to make it onto the plane.)
Anyway. Back on the Doon Hill run, Ian R caught up with the gabby Abbies at around 3 miles and barely broke stride before stretching away. It appeared that the railwaymen in the engine car were furiously shovelling coal into the "Rowland Express" as he only continued to build more and more steam. He really is the master at pacing into a run.
Coming back down the otherside of the hill, I saw a 5:50 flash up on the Garmin, but was still being gapped by Ian and Stuart (who was following Ian at a respectful but not huge distance - think well-mannered Geisha). When I eventually made it back to Hallhill, my average pace overall was 6:38 per mile, and I then spent the best part of 10 minutes trying to cough/puke up a lung.
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Thursday night's interval session wasn't particularly noteworthy - a series of 800s and 400s. But instead of starting easy and leaving plenty for the end (as I've done for much of the winter), I elected to work hard from the start, and try to hang on beyond jelly legs. Which felt satisfying.
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Friday was another regulation sort of run. I'd gone into work for 7:30am to justify a longer lunch, and did a 10 miler on the canal and Water of Leith up towards Juniper Green, which allowed me to properly trial a(nother) new purchase. Recent concerns about battery life on my Forerunner 10, and a cracking deal on Amazon, saw me pick up a (new but discontinued stock) 310XT for £125. Including a heart rate monitor. And most importantly a battery with a promised 20 hour life, as opposed to the circa 3 I've been getting out of the 10. Stuart recently offered me the use of his 10 as well as my own for the Fling - as kind an offer as that was, I'd have needed at least 3, and probably 4 of them to capture the full distance.
I set out at a steady-ish pace up stream, and my heart rate was in the 155-165 range. I then decided to push it on the way back to see what harder work might look like. Towards the end of the run I was doing a shade over 6 minute miles, and saw it peak at 190. Which sounded a bit high. I've never used a HRM before, so did a bit of Googling to see what normal might look like. Google suggested that a maximum heart rate for someone of my age would be around 180, which freaked me out a bit. Is it safe to be doing more than that? What would full-on race pace look like?
A bit of e-mailing in the evening with Stuart reassured me that "trained athletes" (I like that Stuart, you can call me that again whenever you like) would expect to have a greater range than Joe Publics, and I can see the logic there. A bit of further playing on Saturday morning revealed that my resting heart rate is around 45, and even I know that that is pretty good. But oh dear, I can see that HRM data is a just another door of geekdom and obsession that has been opened to me.
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I knew that I didn't fancy anything too long or strenuous on Saturday, so was pleased when Ian R posted a link on facebook which promised orienteering at Yellowcraigs (or "Yellowcraig" as the sign below would have it.)
A quick canvass of the offspring revealed Jamie (our youngest) as a willing co-participant, so I was pleased to have some company. I thought that company was in doubt however when, approximately 20 minutes before we were due to leave, a tempest of wind, sleet, hail and darkness swept over the house. Judging by Jamie's concerned expression, it looked like she was hoping we were going to cancel.
But admirably she didn't say as much, so we carried on regardless. And were rewarded with perfectly acceptable weather by the time we reached the car park adjacent to the start. After a quick blether with Ian, who had already been round the green course, we went ahead and registered. Jamie elected for the white course, while I too did green. Jamie usually goes round with Jack or Jo, but was happy enough to go on her own provided she was allowed to take her time and walk.
My run went pretty well, with no mispunching, no missed controls, and not too much in the way of blindly casting around hoping I would stumble on an elusive control. Jamie also had a clean run, which we were both pleased about. She was amused by a boy of roughly her age who was a little disparaging to her about her walking, before having to admit later that he'd gone wrong himself and could she point him to number XYZ?
A sociable wee trip was completed by seeing Mary and Tom Mallows afterwards, as well my pal Walter's mum Janet. Janet is incredibly game, still competing, and remains a driving force in Edinburgh Southern Orienteering Club, despite being quite well into her 70s.
I asked Jamie if she'd enjoyed it, and she enthusiastically agreed that she had. Which is all you can ask for really.
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| Enjoying a well-earned ice cream (not pictured) afterwards |
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| My trace bears a passing relation to the course map (bar the f@nny-ing around between 8 and 9) :) |
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We were up reasonably early on Sunday morning to drop Jamie at her friend's in Whitekirk, before I drove straight back to Stuart and Anne's so that Stuart and I could go for a planned 20+ miler at 9:30am. Jamie was off into town to have a spot of lunch and go to the cinema, and rubbed in how much more appealling an option that appeared as the wipers were working furiously to keep the windscreen clear of rain.
Stuart and I had somewhat perversely agreed to head out in the morning, despite the forecast being pretty grim, with the prospects improving for the afternoon. I elected to head back to the house and collect my waterproof jacket and gloves. So much for spring!
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| Naw, it's a Mitsubishi |
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| More like Opaque Rig |
But, as the saying goes, you need to train in poor conditions once in a while, because you never know what the weather will be like on race day.
We headed up into the wind farms, where there was a bit of a headwind to begin with (but nothing like as bad as the day in February when we were up there with Peter and Roly), before going round the back of Spartleton.
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| Anne and Stuart's summer residence |
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| Whiteadder, seen from the Herring Road |
We turned off the road towards Bothwell, then up the hill past Crichness, over and down into Monynutt forest, before a loop back up into the windfarms and then back down to chez Hay. By the end the rain had largely abated, and the sun was making a first tentative effort at poking through the marbled sky, but I was still glad of the protection afforded by my jacket and gloves. A little over 21 miles was a good return, and it felt like good Fling prep on undulating traily terrain. My first run in the Hokas since swapping out the laces was good - secure, but without the pinching and pain around top of my foot. And the 310XT managed the best part of 3 hours (with HRM) at the cost of only 16% of its charge. Happy days.
Penguin Classics Mug of the Week: My Man Jeeves (unrated - haven't read it)
Mrs H's Cake of the Week: Lemon with limoncello ganache and mango flakes (*****)
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